


2019 Whumptober

by Vandera



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2020-11-08 19:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 18,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20840975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandera/pseuds/Vandera
Summary: It’s that time of year again.





	1. Day 1: Shaky Hands

Tyrathan Khort always had steady hands when he used his bow. To hit one’s target accurately, a hunter had to have a steady shot. Today, however, his hands were shaking. He could not help it, though. It was because of who his target was. His target was the Warchief of the Horde, Vol’jin.

Tyrathan swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked out over the location he had selected. He was hiding behind a group of rocks outside of Orgrimmar. It was Brewfest and he had a perfect view of the celebration grounds where Vol’jin would give his Tapping of the Keg speech soon. At least, that was according to the information that Tyrathan had been given.

He shook his head, trying to figure out how he had gotten himself into this situation. The Alliance, King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind with urging from Jaina Proudmoore most likely, had decided that the Horde was too much of a threat and needed to be dealt with before another war happened. Tyrathan’s reputation as a troll hunter and skilled marksman got him put on the short list for the assignment. He suspected that Vanyst had actively campaigned for Tyrathan to receive this assignment, to further the Vanyst influence.

Tyrathan readied an arrow in his bow. How could he do this? He knew it was not right. Vol’jin and the Horde had made no move against the Alliance since Garrosh was removed from power. Tyrathan could walk away. He could just fail in the assignment. Yet, he had always followed orders.

Tyrathan looked back at the celebration grounds when he heard the cheers. Vol’jin had arrived. The Warchief walked out in front of the crowd and someone handed him a mug. Vol’jin lifted the mug and began to address the crowd.

Tyrathan aimed his weapon at Vol’jin. The shaking in his hands was worse now that he was getting ready to follow through on his orders. Memories of him and Vol’jin together back in Pandaria flashed through his mind, quiet talks under the night sky, games of jihui, fighting the Zandalari, and more than one night of passion. They had been in love.

Vol’jin had saved Tyrathan’s life on more than one occasion. He had fought the Sha for Tyrathan, and later pleaded with Bwonsamdi to spare Tyrathan’s life. Vol’jin had listened and been there for him when Tyrathan was in a dark place in his life, when he had been wondering if his life was even worth living. There had been no judgment in the troll’s eyes, or even pity, but there had been understanding.

With tears in his eyes, Tyrathan lowered his bow. He could not do it, not like this. He owed Vol’jin too much to betray him like this. He watched as Vol’jin finished his speech and the crowd broke out in another round of cheers. Vol’jin then turned and headed back towards the city.

Tyrathan sat down, his hands slowly stopped shaking. He had made his decision. He was not going to follow through on his assignment. He could not do that to Vol’jin. He owed the troll his life. Tyrathan gathered his things and walked away from Orgrimmar, away from Vol’jin. He wondered if the troll ever thought about him, or if he was something that Vol’jin wanted to forget. Tyrathan wondered what a life with Vol’jin could have been like. Finally, Tyrathan wondered what the Alliance was going to do to him when he returned, having failed his mission.


	2. Day 2: Explosion

Vol’jin walked through the Ruins of Lordaeron with Saurfang, Baine, and Sylvanas. It was still a few hours before dawn; a few hours before the battle would begin. The Alliance had already taken possession of Brill, and now their siege machines were outside the walls of the city.

Vol’jin glanced up at the ramparts where dozens of archers were stationed, patiently waiting, but already on guard. Vol’jin finally spotted his mate, Tyrathan Khort, speaking with a couple of the archers. They were friends of his that had been in the Unseen Path. He had wanted to talk and catch up with them before the battle. The last time he had seen them was before they went to Argus.

Tyrathan had promised Vol’jin that he would return to Orgrimmar before the battle started. Vol’jin wanted Tyrathan as far away from the battle as possible. He knew that Tyrathan would be an obvious target for the Alliance.

Vol’jin had just turned around to discuss something with Saurfang when the sound of an explosion boomed through the air. One of the ramparts suddenly collapsed and a large cloud of dust filled the air. Vol’jin’s heart dropped. It was the same rampart that Tyrathan had been standing on just seconds before.

“Alliance dogs,” hissed Sylvanas.

Saurfang and Baine shouted for assistance from some of the nearby soldiers. Vol’jin was already at the collapsed wall, removing blocks of stone.

(Please let him be okay) Vol’jin prayed to the Loa. There was no answer.

Slowly, the rescuers began to reach those trapped underneath the rubble. Several survivors were pulled free from the wreckage. For others, it was already too late and their bodies were respectfully removed. Finally, Vol’jin caught sight of Tyrathan under some of the debris.

With help from Saurfang, Vol’jin carefully freed Tyrathan and lifted him out of the rubble. They laid him down on the ground nearby. He was still alive, though his eyes were closed and his breathing rapid.

Saurfang shouted for a healer. It was clear that Tyrathan had several broken bones and he was bleeding from several wounds. A nasty gash cut across the human’s forehead.

“Tyrathan, don’t ya dare leave me,” whispered Vol’jin in Zandali as he held one of Tyrathan’s hands.

Tyrathan squeezed Vol’jin’s hand in response. “I don’t intend to go anywhere. At least, not without a fight,” he muttered back in Zandali.

(It always be more fun when dey fight) chuckled Bwonsamdi’s voice as Vol’jin felt the Loa’s spirit nearby.

“I be doin’ what I can do, Warchief,” said Vanira as she knelt next to Tyrathan. “But if Bwonsamdi be wantin’ him, dere be little I can do to stop him.”

“I know dat,” growled Vol’jin as he brushed Tyrathan’s hair back from his pale face. Tyrathan’s breathing was slowing down and his pulse was growing fainter.

It was too soon for Vol’jin. He was not ready to lose his mate, his human this soon. Vol’jin doubted that he ever would be ready, but Bwonsamdi did not care if one was ready or not.

“Warchief, I be sorry,” sighed Vanira in defeat.

Vol’jin picked Tyrathan up in his arms and cradled his human against his chest. He watched as Tyrathan took his last breath, and he felt Tyrathan’s spirit leave his body. Vol’jin could hear Bwonsamdi’s cruel laughter as the Loa returned to the spirit world.

Vol’jin buried his face against Tyrathan’s neck and sobbed. His hot tears were running down his cheeks. After a few moments, Vol’jin lifted his head up and pressed a tender goodbye kiss to Tyrathan’s forehead. Vol’jin then threw his head back and roared his fury to the sky, so that Horde and Alliance both could hear him.

For the Horde, it was a battle cry to avenge their Warchief’s mate. For the Alliance, it was the sound of death and destruction coming for them.


	3. Day 3: Delirium

It started out as a headache and fatigue. Tyrathan suggested that Vol’jin take a break from his duties and take a nap. Vol’jin’s reluctance to take breaks was one of the few things they argued about, but as much as Tyrathan hated to argue with Vol’jin, this was one thing that he insisted on.

“I not be needin’ a break. I be fine,” argued Vol’jin.

Tyrathan placed a hand on Vol’jin’s forehead. It felt hot to the touch, warmer than a troll should be. “You’ve got a fever,” noted Tyrathan.

“Trolls not be havin’ fevers,” growled Vol’jin as he tried to swat Tyrathan’s hand away.

“Vol’jin,” sighed Tyrathan. “I know for a fact that trolls do get fevers when they’re sick. I also know that for a troll to get sick, it must be something serious.”

“Ya know too much about trolls, manthing,” complained Vol’jin.

“I should know a lot about them, seeing as I live with a very difficult troll,” countered Tyrathan. “Now are you going to go lie down, or do I have to get Saurfang and Rokhan to drag you to bed?”

“I just goin’ to lie down for a few minutes,” agreed Vol’jin reluctantly as he stood up. He smiled softly at Tyrathan as he gently stroked Tyrathan’s cheek with one of his fingers. “Ya always be takin’ care of me,” he chuckled.  
———————————————————————————————————————————  
The moment Vol’jin fell asleep, Tyrathan sent for a shaman. He was glad he did too, because a few minutes turned into a few hours, and Vol’jin still slept.

“He be pushin’ himself too hard,” complained Vanira. “But he should be able to sleep dis fever off,” she said as she left.

Tyrathan sat down next to Vol’jin and watched the troll as he slept. Usually when Vol’jin slept, he looked peaceful and relaxed, like a big sleeping cat, but not this time. He looked like he was in pain or having a nightmare. Tyrathan suspected that it was because of the fever.

Every so often, Tyrathan took the damp cloth off Vol’jin’s forehead, dipped it in cold water, and placed it back on his forehead. The fifth time Tyrathan did that, Vol’jin’s eyes snapped open and he seized Tyrathan’s wrist.

There was a strange look in Vol’jin’s eyes as he glared at Tyrathan. Vol’jin’s grip on Tyrathan’s wrist tightened painfully.

“Vol’jin, let go. You’re hurting me,” pleaded Tyrathan.

Vol’jin growled threateningly. “Who do ya think ya be, human? Where am I?” he demanded as he sat up.

Sweat beaded on Vol’jin’s forehead and ran down his face. The troll’s eyes were glassy, but they still flashed with anger and hate. Vol’jin’s fever must have gotten so high that it was affecting his mental state. Trolls, well anyone for that matter, could be unpredictable when they were delirious.

“Vol’jin,” said Tyrathan calmly. “You’re in your room in Grommash Hold.”

“And just who ya be?” growled Vol’jin.

“Tyrathan, your mate,” explained Tyrathan.

“Liar!” Vol’jin hissed as he slammed Tyrathan against the wall.

Tyrathan saw stars explode across his vision when his head hit the wall, but it was the snap of his wrist that made him cry out in pain.

Vol’jin placed his other hand around Tyrathan’s throat. “I give ya one last chance to tell me da truth, human,” threatened Vol’jin.

Tyrathan realized that Vol’jin was serious and not going to be reasoned with. Tyrathan had never felt like his life was in danger when he was with Vol’jin, but in this moment, he was actually scared of his troll.

“Warchief! Let go of him!” Vanira yelled as she entered the ground. Two guards were on her heels, alerted by her shouting.

“Vanira?” Vol’jin had a confused expression on his face as he looked over his shoulder at her.

The fever must have not only affected Vol’jin’s mind, but also his reflexes, because Vanira hit him with a spell and dropped him to the floor instantly. Tyrathan also fell to the floor when Vol’jin released him. The guards helped Tyrathan to his feet and pulled him away from the now sleeping Vol’jin.

“He didn’t recognize me,” said Tyrathan as he cradled his broken wrist.

“In dis state, I be surprised dat he recognized me,” said Vanira as she turned her attention to Tyrathan.

“He didn’t know what he was doing,” said Tyrathan. He was speaking to himself more than he was to Vanira. He was trying to reassure himself that Vol’jin would never hurt him, when he was in his right frame of mind. This was just an unfortunate accident.

“It be my fault,” said Vanira. “I shouldn’t have left ya alone with him with his fever bein’ so high.”

“He is going to be okay?” Tyrathan asked as the two guards lifted Vol’jin back into the bed.

“He will recover, and he probably not gonna remember dis,” said Vanira.

“Don’t tell him,” said Tyrathan. He wanted to just forget that this had happened.

Vanira stopped her spell and looked Tyrathan straight in the eye. The conflict was obvious in her eyes. Tyrathan could tell that she was debating whether or not to tell Vol’jin.

“Please, don’t tell him,” pleaded Tyrathan. Nothing happened, Tyrathan told himself. It’s not worth talking about.

“I’ll think about it,” said Vanira as she went back to treating Tyrathan’s wrist. “But if he asks me, I not gonna lie.”

Tyrathan frowned, realizing that was all Vanira was willing to concede at this point. He glanced over at the bed where Vol’jin was resting. He knew that Vol’jin would beat himself up about this if he ever found out.

Besides, it was Tyrathan’s fault. He should have been more cautious and given Vol’jin more space. As a troll hunter, he knew how dangerous trolls could be when they felt threatened, especially if they were sick or injured. It was his fault, he told himself.


	4. Day 4: Human Shield

The Siege of Orgrimmar was going in the attackers’ favor. Although, it was proving costly. In the end though, Vol’jin knew that it would be worth it when Garrosh was removed from power and stopped. The orc had brought the Horde to this point, and almost destroyed it. Vol’jin had gotten ahead of the others and was the first one into the room where Garrosh was holed up.

“It be over, Garrosh,” threatened Vol’jin as he walked into the room. “Ya forces have been defeated and da city has fallen.”

“I suppose you think that you’re here to stop me,” grinned Garrosh.

“Aye,” said Vol’jin as he lifted his glaive and moved into an attack stance.

Garrosh laughed, “I knew that you were raising a rebellion against me. I knew that you were a traitor to the True Horde. Yet, I didn’t realize how much of a traitor until I had someone do a little digging into everything that you’ve been up to since you disappeared.”

“Enough,” growled Vol’jin as he charged at the orc.

“You might want to think twice about that,” taunted Garrosh as he pulled someone out in front of him.

Eyes widening, Vol’jin skidded to a stop. No, not him.

Garrosh had a tight grip on the arms of the human now standing in front of him, but it was not just any human. It was Vol’jin’s human, Tyrathan Khort.

“Let him go,” ordered Vol’jin. “He be nothin’ to ya.”

“Maybe, but he’s apparently something to you,” smiled Garrosh as he placed a hand under Tyrathan’s chin and lifted it up. “I never expected you to settle for one of these weak little creatures. I suppose that it shows that I was right not to trust you. Sleeping with enemy. How disgraceful.”

“If ya hurt him, Garrosh, I gonna do da same to ya a thousand fold,” threatened Vol’jin.

Tyrathan looked bruised and beaten. Vol’jin hated to think what the human had suffered since coming into Garrosh’s clutches. He wondered how long Tyrathan had been Garrosh’s prisoner.

“Do what you have to do, Vol’jin,” said Tyrathan in Zandali. “Just stop him.”

“You shut up!” Garrosh growled as he struck Tyrathan.

Tyrathan hissed in pain and then cough up some blood.

Vol’jin’s vision went red and he roared in anger as he rushed at Garrosh.  
———————————————————————————————————————————  
When Garrosh struck him, Tyrathan had blacked out. Now, he was starting to come to. He was lying in a soft bed and a warm fur covered him. His injuries must have been treated because he could not feel pain from them anymore. Finally, he could smell Vol’jin’s scent next to him.

Tyrathan opened his eyes to see Vol’jin sitting next to the bed watching him. Relief washed over Vol’jin’s face when he saw that Tyrathan was awake.

“Mon, why be it dat every time I be lettin’ ya out of my sight dat ya be findin’ trouble?” Vol’jin asked.

“Lucky, I guess,” grinned Tyrathan. He glanced around the room. It was small and sparsely decorated, and Vol’jin was the only other person here. “What happened?” Tyrathan asked.

“I killed Garrosh,” answered Vol’jin. “He not gonna hurt ya or anyone else again.”

Tyrathan closed his eyes as he felt himself sliding back into sleep.

“I not gonna let anyone hurt ya ever again,” whispered Vol’jin.


	5. Day 5: Gunpoint

Since returning from Pandaria, Tyrathan Khort was trying to make things work out with his wife, but it was not going well. Tonight, they had another fight and she had left, saying that she needed fresh air. Tyrathan was not sure where she had gone, but he suspected that she had gone to see Morelan Vanyst. He knew the two of them were still having an affair. Tyrathan was beginning to wonder why he was trying so hard to make his marriage work.

“Daddy, can you tell me a bedtime story?” Ava, his daughter, asked as she came into the room.

Oh right, this was why he was trying so hard to repair his marriage, his children.

“Of course, sweetheart,” said Tyrathan as he picked up his daughter and carried her to her room. “What story do you want to hear?”

“Tell me the story about the hunter and the Chieftain,” said Ava.

“Okay. Once upon a time there was a Chieftain, who was strong and brave. He was also wise and his people loved him,” began Tyrathan.

“But there was a bad Chieftain too,” interrupted Ava.

“Yes,” Tyrathan nodded. “There was a bad Chieftain who ruled over the good Chieftain. One day, the bad Chieftain tried to get rid of the good Chieftain. The good Chieftain was hurt very badly, but a friend of his found him and helped him get to a safe place.”

“And that’s where the hunter was,” smiled Ava.

“Yes, the hunter had gotten hurt too, and was recovering in the safe place as well,” continued Tyrathan. “Unfortunately, the hunter and the Chieftain were supposed to be enemies. Their people did not get along with each other.”

“But they became friends,” argued Ava.

“Slowly, the two of them learned to trust each other, and they became friends,” said Tyrathan. Well, actually, they became more than friends, but his daughter was not old enough to hear that part of the story.

Tyrathan sighed as he glanced out the window at the moons and stars. “The hunter and the Chieftain fought side by side. They vowed to stay friends forever, even when they left the safe place and went to their own homes. The good Chieftain went home and overthrew the bad Chieftain, while the hunter went home to his family.”

“Daddy, did the hunter and the Chieftain ever see each other again?” Ava asked.

“No, as far as I know, they didn’t,” said Tyrathan. “But maybe someday they will.”

Ava yawned, “I think they should see each other, and live happily ever after.”

Once Tyrathan tucked Ava into bed, he returned to the living room. His wife still had not come home yet. Tyrathan frowned. It was getting late. He wondered if maybe he should go looking for her. He could wake his oldest son, Markus, up and have him watch the younger children until Tyrathan got back.

The click of a gun made Tyrathan turn around. Morelan Vanyst was standing behind him, with a pistol pointed at Tyrathan’s head. “No sudden movements, Khort,” ordered Morelan.

“How did you get in here, Morelan?” Tyrathan asked. He must have been so distracted with his thoughts that Morelan was able to slip up on him.

“Elanora gave me a key. She says that she can’t stand to be married to you a minute longer. I promised to take care of her problem,” explained Morelan. The smell of alcohol was heavy on his breath.

“Morelan, you are drunk. Give me the gun and go home. We can all discuss this rationally in the morning,” said Tyrathan.

“You make Elanora so unhappy,” accused Morelan. “I’m going to make her happy. I’ll give her anything that she wants.”

“If she wants a divorce, I’ll give her a divorce,” said Tyrathan. “But killing me is not going to solve her problems.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” slurred Morelan.

Realizing that Morelan was not going to put the gun down or be reasoned with, Tyrathan decided to act. He quickly sprung at Morelan and tried to use a Shadowpan move to disarm him. Unfortunately, the gun went off and Morelan went limp. His body hit the floor with a thud.

Tyrathan set the gun down and immediately checked Morelan. He was dead. There was nothing Tyrathan could do. He knew this was bad. A dead noble in his house? He would be blamed, especially since it appeared that Elanora knew that Morelan had come over here. No one would believe his side of the story.

Tyrathan realized that he had two options. He could stay here, and be charged with murder and be hanged, or he could leave. He went straight to his room and began to pack his bag. He thought about possible places where he could go. He wondered if maybe Vol’jin’s offer, that he come stay with him in Orgrimmar, was still good. Well, there was one way to find out. Maybe the Chieftain and hunter would live happily ever after.

“Daddy, I heard a noise,” said Ava from the doorway. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I have to leave for a while, sweetheart,” said Tyrathan. “Go back to bed. Markus is in charge until your mother gets home.”

“Daddy, can I come with you?” Ava asked.

Tyrathan gave his daughter one last hug. “I’m sorry, baby, but you can’t,” he said.

Ava went back down the hall to her room. Tyrathan waited until she had closed her door. Then Tyrathan walked out the back door and slipped away into the night.


	6. Day 6: Dragged Away

“I don’t want to go back,” Ava argued as she crossed her arms. Her green eyes flashed with stubbornness. Tyrathan was well aware of how stubborn his little girl could be.

Ava had run away from home a few weeks ago. Luckily for her, Jasper had found her and brought her to Tyrathan before anything happened to her. Unfortunately, it had only been a matter of time before the Alliance learned that there was an Alliance child among the Horde.

Vol’jin and Tyrathan had tried to keep it quiet while they figured out what to do. Ava did not want to go back. She was not happy at home. Yet, these things always seemed to leak out. Tyrathan suspected that there was an Alliance spy who had access to Grommash Hold. It was the only explanation he could think of.

The Alliance was now demanding that Ava be returned. Tyrathan was trying to reason with her, and prepare her for the most likely outcome, that she would have to go home. While he was doing this, Vol’jin was currently at the negotiating table with the Alliance, arguing for Tyrathan’s parental rights. It was a long shot at best, and they knew it.

The door opened and Vol’jin entered. The Warchief shook his head, and Tyrathan’s heart dropped.

“I be sorry, Love,” apologized Vol’jin in Zandali. “Dey be threatenin’ war if we don’t give her back. I know dat ya not want a war started on ya account.”

Tyrathan nodded and looked back at his daughter. “Ava, I need you to be a big girl and go home.”

“But I want to stay with you,” she argued.

“When you’re older, you can make that decision for yourself, but right now, you need to do what the adults tell you to do,” explained Tyrathan.

“It be time, Tyrathan,” said Vol’jin.

Tyrathan gave Ava a hug. “I want you to remember that I’ll always love you,” said Tyrathan.

“I love you too, Daddy,” said Ava.

Tyrathan carried Ava into the room where the Alliance was waiting. He set her down. Ava took one look at the Alliance leaders and their guards and backed away from them.

“No, I’m not going. I’m staying with Daddy,” she told them. She grabbed hold of Tyrathan’s leg. He reached down and tried to pry her little hands off him.

“Ava, please,” Tyrathan pleaded.

Varian Wrynn nodded at some of his guards. The guards walked over and grabbed Ava, picking her up.

“No!” Ava screamed as she tried to kick the guards who carried her away. “I want my Daddy!”

The guards dragged her out of the room. The Alliance leaders followed and the doors closed behind them.

“Tyrathan,” said Vol’jin as he placed a hand on Tyrathan’s shoulder. “Ya okay?”

“What kind of father puts their child through this?” Tyrathan sighed as he turned and walked out of the room.


	7. Day 7: Isolation

Vol’jin was not sure why he was trapped in this limbo existence. He could not crossover to the other side and rest. He was no longer part of the living world. The Loa did not answer him when he called their names. He was stuck, alone with his thoughts.

He thought about his last days, his final actions, the battle against the Legion, naming Sylvanas as Warchief, and dying. There were gaps in Vol’jin’s memory. Something did not add up. Who had told him to name Sylvanas as Warchief? Vol’jin did not remember.

As the time passed, Vol’jin’s mind turned to other things. Memories of his childhood flashed through his mind, followed by images of his friends, and finally a human. The one human he had tried desperately over the years to forget, Tyrathan Khort.

When Vol’jin was Warchief, there were plenty of things to distract him from his thoughts about his human. Unfortunately here, he had nothing to distract him. He missed Tyrathan. The last time he saw the human was the day that Vol’jin left the Shadowpan Monastery.

As time passed, Vol’jin had tried to forget Tyrathan. Yet, there were times when that proved impossible. Vol’jin had sent messages to Tyrathan, asking to meet with him, even asking him to come to Orgrimmar. Tyrathan had not responded to any of those messages. Vol’jin had felt alone back then, but he kept busy. There were plenty of people around, demanding his attention. Here, there was no one.

Vol’jin was alone.


	8. Day 8: Stab Wound

Vol’jin had not left Tyrathan’s side since the human had been injured by the mogu’s spear and Vol’jin had pleaded with Bwonsamdi to spare the hunter’s life. The wound had been bandaged and Tyrathan now rested in the infirmary. Yet, the human had not yet awakened.

Tyrathan’s skin was pale and his breaths were shallow. If it was not for the slight movement of his chest, he could easily be mistaken for dead. He clung to life by a weak thread. Bwonsamdi had agreed to spare Tyrathan’s life, so Vol’jin knew that Tyrathan would pull through. However, Vol’jin would not be satisfied until Tyrathan opened his eyes and spoke to him again.

Vol’jin rested one of his hands gently on the bandages that covered the hunter’s abdomen. The image of that wound still burned in Vol’jin’s mind. It should have killed the human, and it would have if not for Vol’jin’s stubbornness. Tyrathan, however, had seemed to want to die.

That felt like a stab in Vol’jin’s chest. How could Tyrathan be so willing to give up? How could Tyrathan have been so willing to leave him? Did Vol’jin not matter enough to the human for him to want to stay alive? Or was the human just looking for the easiest way out?

“Selfish manthing,” muttered Vol’jin as he lay his tired head down on the bed.

“How could saving your life be selfish?” whispered Tyrathan hoarsely.

Surprised, Vol’jin lifted his head up to see Tyrathan looking at him. His eyes were open, although a little unfocused. The monks had given Tyrathan something for the pain and it must have still been having an effect on the human.

“Ya eagerness to die and leave me be selfish, human,” explained Vol’jin as he felt tears prick his eyes.

“We’re going to have to say goodbye at some point. That was the easiest way to do it,” sighed Tyrathan as he closed his eyes again.

“We can worry about dat later,” said Vol’jin as he stroked Tyrathan’s hair. The thought of saying goodbye to his human felt like another stab in Vol’jin’s heart. He pushed that thought away. He would deal with that inevitability that later.


	9. Day 9: Shackled

The boat rocked back and forth slowly with the waves. Thankfully, the waters were not rough tonight. Yet, despite the easy voyage, Vol’jin could not sleep. He had not gotten much sleep the past couple of nights either. He was still weighing his options, trying to decide whether or not he would accept Khal’ak’s offer.

He studied his chains of gold. Gold, yes, but still chains, which meant that he was still a prisoner. Despite the grudging respect that was being shown to him because he was a shadowhunter, he knew that the Zandalari despised him because he was a Darkspear. Choosing to join the Zandalari would be a hard road for him and his people. The Darkspears’ continued existence would be based on pleasing the Zandalari. It would be similar to the set of chains that he was wearing now.

On the other hand though, Garrosh had tried to assassinate Vol’jin. The orc had made it clear that he did not regard the Darkspears as equal members of the Horde. Vol’jin did not know what was happening to his tribe at this moment, but he suspected that Garrosh would quell any dissent in the Echo Isles harshly. Vol’jin’s tribe could be in physical chains at this moment, or worse.

Should Vol’jin shackle himself and his tribe in an alliance with the Zandalari? Would the profits of that partnership be worth it? Or would doing so drag Vol’jin and the Darkspears into destruction?

Was staying with the Horde even an option? Could others in the Horde be persuaded to overthrow Garrosh? Or would attempting such a thing lead to the extermination of Vol’jin’s tribe?

Vol’jin was pulled from his thoughts by a noise. Beside Vol’jin, Tyrathan sifted in his sleep. His face was twisted in pain and a sob escaped his mouth, another nightmare. Over the past couple of weeks, Vol’jin had become accustomed to Tyrathan’s frequent nightmares that haunted his sleep.

Vol’jin placed a hand on Tyrathan’s shoulder and muttered a quiet prayer to the Loa, asking them to give his human respite from his nightmares tonight. The only other option would be to wake Tyrathan, but the hunter needed his rest. Slowly, Tyrathan’s face relaxed and he grew quiet.

This was something else that Vol’jin had to factor into his decision. He had to make the best decision for himself, his tribe, and his human. The only thing that the Zandalari probably would despise more than the Darkspears would be a human. The same could be said for the Horde. Bringing Tyrathan with him could cause things to get worse for Vol’jin.

The Zandalari would see Vol’jin’s attachment to the human as weakness and may use it as an excuse to break whatever promises were made. The rest of the Horde could see it as betrayal and refuse to side with Vol’jin. Yet, what was Vol’jin suppose to do? Leave Tyrathan to fend for himself?

Vol’jin sighed. How had he let himself get this attached to a human of all things? This was another chain, one that wrapped around Vol’jin’s heart, and he knew what he needed to do. He needed to break that particular chain.

Whatever Vol’jin decided to do, wherever Vol’jin went, Tyrathan was not going to come with him. Vol’jin would make sure Tyrathan got to safety, but he was not going to stay with Vol’jin. That was not an option that Vol’jin was going to consider.


	10. Day 10: Unconscious

Tyrathan Khort should have known something was wrong when he saw Saurfang standing outside Grommash Hold waiting for him. It was clear on the orc’s face that something bad had happened.

“What’s wrong?” Tyrathan asked as he approached. He had been out hunting since dawn, and decided to return before lunch.

“Follow me,” ordered Saurfang as he led the way into Grommash Hold.

When they walked past the throne room, Tyrathan saw that there was no one inside. That was odd. This time of day, Vol’jin and others were usually in the throne room, conducting business. Tyrathan was getting a bad feeling.

“Where’s Vol’jin?” Tyrathan demanded as he followed Saurfang.

“There was an accident,” explained Saurfang. “Vol’jin was at the workshop where the goblins have been experimenting with Azerite weapons.”

Fear gripped Tyrathan, although he forced himself to stay calm. While there were plenty of things unknown about Azerite, its destructive capabilities were generally known. It was dangerous and deadly, and goblins and Azerite were two things that did not need to go together.

“They were demonstrating those Azerite weapons for the Warchief when the weapons backfired, causing an explosion,” continued Saurfang as they arrived at the Warchief’s private rooms.

Tyrathan frowned. Azerite weapons were just as dangerous to the people using them as they were to one’s enemies.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
Vol’jin had been unconscious for two days. Tyrathan had not left his mate’s side. He had fallen asleep once, and woken up on a cot. Someone must have brought the cot into the room and moved him onto it when he fell asleep. They also brought Tyrathan his meals and urged him to eat.

“Vol’jin never gonna forgive us if we let ya waste away,” complained Vanira.

Healers were constantly in and out of the room, monitoring the Warchief. Either Saurfang and Rokhan were always checking in too. They were trying to keep the Warchief’s condition a secret, hoping that he would quickly recover. With no rule of succession, the Horde could descend into chaos if the Warchief died suddenly with no clear successor, especially since they were currently at war with the Alliance.

Tyrathan did not care about any of that. All he was concerned about was Vol’jin. As he watched Vol’jin, Tyrathan felt completely helpless. There was nothing he could do. As the third day began with no improvement in Vol’jin’s condition, despair started to settle into Tyrathan’s mind.

What if he were to lose Vol’jin? What if Vol’jin were to die? Memories of their time together ran through Tyrathan’s mind. Tyrathan remembered how the last time he had almost died, Vol’jin had pleaded with Bwonsamdi to spare his life. Maybe, maybe Tyrathan could do the same for Vol’jin. He knew it was a long shot, but there were not a whole lot of options available right now. It could not hurt to try.

Reluctantly, Tyrathan left Vol’jin’s side. “I need to stretch my legs. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he told Rokhan.

Rokhan nodded.

Tyrathan had all the hallways in Grommash Hold mapped out in his head. He knew where the guards were posted, and he knew where there was a little used storeroom that he could use for a few moments of privacy.

Tyrathan stepped into the storeroom and closed the door. It occurred to him that he had no idea how to contact Bwonsamdi. Whenever Vol’jin communed with his Loa, he usually went into some kind of meditative trance.

Tyrathan sat down and positioned himself to meditate like he had learned from the Pandaren monks. Only instead of focusing on peace and balance, Tyrathan focused on trying to get Bwonsamdi’s attention.

“Bwonsamdi, please, I need you to hear me,” muttered Tyrathan as he closed his eyes.

The next instant, it felt like Tyrathan was being ripped from his body. He opened his eyes to find himself standing in what looked like the inside of a temple. Laughter made Tyrathan turn around.

“Well, now, if it not be my favorite human,” laughed Bwonsamdi from where he sat on an altar. “Got to admit dat I was surprised to hear ya voice callin’ me. Now, what can ol’ Bwonsamdi do for ya?”

“Vol’jin’s hurt,” explained Tyrathan. “He’s been unconscious for three days.”

Bwonsamdi nodded. “I know dat. Ya be wantin’ to know if I be comin’ for him. Well, since ya be one of my favorites, I’ll save ya da suspense. It be his time.”

“No! Please! Can’t you give him some more time? The Horde still needs him. I need him,” pleaded Tyrathan.

Bwonsamdi grinned as he shook his head. “Dat not be how things work. When it be ya time, it be ya time,” he said.

“You gave me more time when Vol’jin asked you to,” argued Tyrathan.

“Ya really be desperate to get Vol’jin some more time?” Bwonsamdi asked.

“Yes,” answered Tyrathan.

“Den I’ll make a deal with ya,” said Bwonsamdi. “I be sparin’ Vol’jin, in exchange for ya soul.”

“What do you mean by that?” Tyrathan asked.

“Vol’jin lives, ya die,” explained Bwonsamdi as he leaned forward. “Do we have a deal?” The Loa held out his hand.

Tyrathan did not have to think about it. He would do anything for Vol’jin, including this. He owed it to Vol’jin. His only regret was that he was not going to be able to tell Vol’jin goodbye.

“Deal,” said Tyrathan as he took hold of Bwonsamdi’s hand.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
Vol’jin opened his eyes to see several healers standing around him. That could not be a good sign. Vol’jin pushed himself up into a sitting position.

“Warchief, ya need to take it easy!” Vanira scolded.

“What happened?” Vol’jin growled as he rubbed his forehead. He had a pounding headache.

“Dere was an accident,” explained Rokhan. “Ya been unconscious for da past three days.”

“Wonderful,” muttered Vol’jin sarcastically. Despite the almost blinding pain behind his eyes, something else was not right. In fact, a deep sense of dread was settling into the Vol’jin, but he was not sure why. As he glanced around at the faces of the people in the room, he realized that one was missing.

“Where be Tyrathan?” Vol’jin asked.

“He said dat he be back in a few minutes,” informed Rokhan. “Dis be da only time dat he left ya side dese past couple of days.”

“Go find him,” ordered Vol’jin. “I want to see him.”

Tyrathan was fine, Vol’jin told himself. He was worrying about nothing, yet that uneasy feeling remained. Vol’jin lay back down and closed his eyes, trying to rest. He lost track of time, but it felt like forever before he heard voices outside his door.

“Ya tell him,” whispered Vanira.

“It be better comin’ from ya,” argued Rokhan.

“Why me?” Vanira complained.

“Because ya give people news like dis all da time,” explained Rokhan.

“It not be a part of my job dat I enjoy,” hissed Vanira.

“I’ll tell him,” growled Saurfang.

The door opened and three of them walked in. In his arms, Saurfang carried Tyrathan.

Alarmed, Vol’jin forced himself back into a sitting position, even though the room started to spin when he did so. “What happened? Be he okay?” Vol’jin demanded.

“He’s dead,” said Saurfang firmly as he lay Tyrathan down on a cot.

“No!” Vol’jin yelled as he jumped off the bed. Tyrathan could not be dead. He just couldn’t. Dizziness slammed into Vol’jin and he only made it a couple of steps before he fell to the floor.

“Warchief!” Vanira and Rokhan shouted as they came to his side to assist him.

Vol’jin shook them off and pulled himself up so he was sitting next to the cot. He reached over and gently touched Tyrathan’s face. It was cold. Tyrathan was not breathing, nor could Vol’jin find a pulse.

“He be gone, Vol’jin,” said Vanira as he placed a hand on his shoulder.

“No, Tyrathan,” sobbed Vol’jin as he pulled Tyrathan’s body into his arms. What had happened? How had his mate died? Why? Who?


	11. Day 11: Stitches

Vol’jin focused on healing his injuries. Most were minor, but a couple of them were more serious wounds. Unfortunately, his healing abilities were still not responding like they should. That irritated him because it made him feel weak. Given that Vol’jin and Tyrathan were trying to retreat from the Zandalari, this was not a good time for him to be weak.

Vol’jin turned his attention to a deep wound on his left thigh, caused by a very lucky Zandalari archer. As he tried to heal it, he felt eyes watching him. He looked up to see Tyrathan watching him with concern in his eyes, apprehension, and maybe a little bit of amazement.

“What? Ya never seen a troll heal himself?” Vol’jin asked teasingly.

“As a rule, it’s usually not a good idea to be that close to an injured troll. Trolls tend to be a bit more vicious when they’re injured,” said Tyrathan as he restocked his quiver with the arrows that Chen and the Shadowpan monks had left for them.

Spoken like a true troll hunter. Suddenly, Vol’jin was struck with a thought. Was Tyrathan afraid that Vol’jin would lash out at the hunter just because he was injured? Vol’jin noticed that Tyrathan was standing just outside his reach.

“Ya not be afraid of me, are ya?” Vol’jin asked.

“Of course not,” said Tyrathan.

“Den why ya standin’ so far away?” Vol’jin challenged.

The last thing Vol’jin expected was for Tyrathan to suddenly walk over to him and kneel beside him. The hunter peered at the wound on Vol’jin’s thigh. Vol’jin suppressed the urge to growl. His instincts caused him to feel uncomfortable with a human this close to him while he was injured.

“If you can’t heal that, you may need stitches,” said Tyrathan as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and tied it around Vol’jin’s thigh.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
Unfortunately, Vol’jin had been unable to heal the wound to his thigh, and it had to have stitches, just like Tyrathan warned. Troll bodies did not react well to stitches. Even though his healing abilities were functioning at a reduced speed, they were still trying to heal his wound. The stitches itched as the skin and flesh tried to regrow around them.

“Vol’jin, stop scratching,” ordered Tyrathan for the fifth time.

Vol’jin growled as he moved his hand away from the wound. He had not realized that he had been scratching the stitches again, but the itching was driving him crazy. It felt like ants crawling on his skin.

“Vol’jin!” Tyrathan chided.

“I can scratch if I want to,” hissed Vol’jin.

“I swear that if you don’t stop scratching, I’m going to go to the kitchen and ask the cook for some oven mitts. Then I’m going to duck tape them to your hands,” threatened Tyrathan.

“Ya wouldn’t dare,” spat Vol’jin as he picked at the stitches. Blood started to seep around the stitches.

“I swear that you’re worse than my children,” sighed Tyrathan.

Vol’jin continued to pick at the stitches and succeeded in breaking two of them. He pulled them out, but then the wound started to open back up. Vol’jin pressed a rag against the wound.

Shaking his head, Tyrathan left the room. Vol’jin suspected that the hunter had gone to get one of the Pandaren healers. Tyrathan soon returned with one of the healers, and a pair oven mitts.


	12. Day 12: “Don’t Move”

Four inches through the throat, piercing the spine and the tongue, arrows painted red with blue feathers and black arrowheads.

Vol’jin sighed as he reviewed the fallen Zandalari squadron with Talanji. The blood troll threat in Nazmir had been neutralized some time ago. Unfortunately, the Alliance had decided to move in and use Nazmir as a foothold and base from which to launch attacks. This was the fifth squadron decimated in the past few weeks, and Vol’jin knew exactly who was responsible.

Vol’jin had returned to the land of the living, and with the help from the rest of the Horde, they had removed Sylvanas from the position of Warchief. Unfortunately, too much blood had been spilled for that one fact alone to bring peace with the Alliance.

“I be owin’ ya an apology, Vol’jin,” said Bwonsamdi with a grin as he appeared beside Vol’jin.

“Why?” Vol’jin asked.

“When I agreed to let ya man go, I thought dat it be a waste. But ya man be sendin’ me lots of souls.” Bwonsamdi chuckled as he spread his arms out gesturing at the dead Zandalari troops.

Vol’jin frowned. Things could not keep going on like this. He had to do something.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
Vol’jin was backtracking through the swamp, studying the trail the Zandalari had been using to move their troops. He caught sight of some disturbed underbrush. He then followed that and it led to some old troll ruins. From his vantage point, Vol’jin could see that the Alliance was occupying those ruins. So this was where they were hiding. Suddenly, Vol’jin sensed something and realized that he was not alone.

“Don’t move, Vol’jin,” said a hunter as he stepped out from behind a tree. Tyrathan Khort had an arrow ready to fire at Vol’jin.

“So dat be da way it gonna be?” Vol’jin asked as he studied Tyrathan’s face, trying to determine if the hunter was serious or if this was a bluff.

“That’s up to you,” said Tyrathan. “Turn around, take your Horde, and leave the area.” The look on the human’s face was one of grim determination.

“So ya can warn ya Alliance dat ya need to find another hidin’ spot?” challenged Vol’jin.

“Vol’jin, you’re my friend. That’s why I’m giving you the chance to leave,” said Tyrathan.

Friend. Vol’jin never thought that a word could cut him so deeply. So that was all they were now? Friends? Did the human already forget about all those nights back in Pandaria sleeping in Vol’jin’s bed? Had he forgotten about waking up in Vol’jin’s arms in the morning? Had he forgotten about screaming Vol’jin’s name in pleasure while Vol’jin...?

“Vol’jin! Leave!” Tyrathan ordered as he interrupted Vol’jin’s thoughts. The glare on the human’s face made it clear that he was serious.

Vol’jin backed away from Tyrathan and pretended to leave. He could sense Tyrathan following him all the way to the main trail. Once Vol’jin no longer felt Tyrathan following him, he doubled back. After a few moments, he saw Tyrathan quickly heading back in the direction of the Alliance camp, most likely to warn them that their position here was compromised.

“I be sorry,” whispered Vol’jin as he sent a spell flying at the human. It was a direct hit and the human collapsed to the ground unconscious.

Vol’jin took the unconscious hunter to Bwonsamdi’s temple and left him. He knew Tyrathan would be safe there, and out of the way. Then, Vol’jin gathered his forces and they cornered the Alliance in their camp and eliminated the squad of humans. It had to be done. They could not afford to lose anymore patrols. A day later, Vol’jin returned to Bwonsamdi’s temple.

“Dat human be angry at ya,” said Bwonsamdi as Vol’jin entered the temple. “He’s tried to leave several times, but da temple guardians stopped him,” the Loa chuckled. “Now, he just be cursin’ ya name.”

Vol’jin turned a corner and found Tyrathan standing there with his arms crossed. He glared hatefully at Vol’jin.

“Tyrathan, I be sorry,” apologized Vol’jin.

“I have nothing to say to you,” spat Tyrathan.

“Ya just said somethin’ to him,” smirked Bwonsamdi.

Vol’jin sighed and held out a hearthstone. “Dis be a Dalaran hearthstones. Use it and don’t come back here.”

“Why should I trust you?” Tyrathan asked.

“What possible reason could I have to lie to ya about dis?” Vol’jin countered.

“I thought dat dis time, I was gonna get to keep him,” said Bwonsamdi.

“Not yet,” said Vol’jin.

“I never want to see you again,” said Tyrathan as he took the hearthstone and activated it. He vanished in a flash of light.


	13. Day 13: Adrenaline

Vol’jin focused on tying a bandage to his leg. A Zandalari archer had gotten a lucky shot in and wounded Vol’jin there. For some reason, Vol’jin’s natural regeneration abilities were still not working, even though the poison from the assassin’s blade was now out of his system.

Vol’jin and Tyrathan Khort had stayed behind in Zouchin to try to discourage the Zandalari from pursuing the Pandaren refugees. In doing so, they had made themselves targets for the Zandalari. Right now, Vol’jin was resting behind some large bushes that kept him hidden from sight.

A noise from behind Vol’jin startled him and he spun around, almost stabbing the human hunter.

“Whoa, easy, it’s just me,” said Tyrathan, eyes wide as he held his hands up.

“Ya should know better dan to sneak up on a troll,” growled Vol’jin as he lowered his knife.

“Trust me, I won’t make that mistake again,” said Tyrathan. “There’s another group of pursuers about to come over that hill.” He pointed to the hill not far away.

“Dey bein’ persistent,” complained Vol’jin.

“Well, they are trolls,” joked Tyrathan with a smile.

Ignoring the human’s comment, Vol’jin stood up. “Ya still got energy left to fight, manthing?” he challenged.

“Always,” grinned Tyrathan as he readied his bow.

In just a matter of minutes, the Zandalari came over the hill and arrows rained down on where Vol’jin and Tyrathan had been resting. The two of them fired arrows back at their attackers. As much as Vol’jin hated to admit it, he was getting tired. He was beginning to wonder just how much longer he could keep going. He would go down fighting though, no matter what.

The arrows stopped as Tyrathan dropped the last Zandalari archer with a arrow through his throat. It got very quiet, too quiet. Vol’jin had an uneasy feeling that they were being watched.

“Something’s wrong,” muttered Tyrathan as he looked around.

Suddenly, another Zandalari jumped out from the shadows, a rogue. The rogue struck Tyrathan from behind, knocking the human out cold. The Zandalari was about to stab Tyrathan when Vol’jin rammed into the attacker. All the fatigue that Vol’jin had been feeling was gone.

Vol’jin wrestled the rogue’s daggers away from him and quickly put an end to the rogue, using his own daggers. Then, Vol’jin turned his attention back to his companion.

Heart still pounding in his chest, Vol’jin knelt down beside the still human. He quickly found the hunter’s pulse and was relieved that it was strong and regular. The human’s breathing was also regular.

Vol’jin picked up the unconscious human carefully. He needed to find them another hiding place where they could rest. Luckily, Vol’jin found a small cave nearby. Once inside, he lay the human down just as Tyrathan groaned. The human was starting to wake up.

“Vol’jin? What happened?” Tyrathan moaned as he tried to sit up.

“Easy, mon,” said Vol’jin as placed a hand on the human’s chest and gently pushed him back down. “We can take a break here.”

With sigh, Tyrathan closed his eyes again.

Vol’jin sat down next to the hunter. The rush of adrenaline was starting to fade, leaving him tired again. Yet, when he looked at the face of the resting human, his heart rate picked up again. Telling himself that it was just the adrenaline, Vol’jin looked back at the entrance of the cave and watched as night started to fall.


	14. Day 14: Tear-stained

Tyrathan Khort had not wanted to believe that Vol’jin was dead, but as he watched Vol’jin’s funeral, it was hard to deny. The finality of it all hit him as he watched the funeral pyre being lit and the flames consume Vol’jin’s body. That part did not sit well with Tyrathan. He knew that the Horde was trying to honor Vol’jin, but he also knew that trolls preferred to bury their dead, not burn them, especially when they were high ranking like Vol’jin was.

Why had the Darkspears allowed it? As Tyrathan glanced at the new Warchief, Sylvanas Windrunner, stationed next to the pyre, he realized that perhaps the Darkspears had not been given a choice in the matter. Perhaps it was for the best though. This way, there would be no danger of Sylvanas raising Vol’jin into the curse of undeath.

It had been a hard, rushed journey here, and Tyrathan was in no hurry to leave. Even though he knew he was putting himself at risk of discovery, Tyrathan stayed and watched until the funeral was over, until the last ember went out, until the last puff of smoke blew away in the wind, and until Vol’jin’s ashes were carefully gathered into an urn and given back to the Darkspears. When those trolls left, taking what was left of Vol’jin home to the Echo Isles, Tyrathan left his vigil and made the slow, solemn journey back to Ratchet.

He was too emotionally drained to go any farther, so he got a room at the inn. Once he was in his room, he locked the door and collapsed on the bed. He buried his face in his pillow and cried. Hot tears slid down his cheeks as his heart broke.

It was over, and Tyrathan could not help but feel that he had blown his one chance at happiness. Ever since he had left Pandaria, Tyrathan had told himself that maybe someday he would reunite with Vol’jin. Maybe someday they would be together. Maybe someday, but now there would be no more somedays.

Tyrathan did not know how long he cried, but he cried until he fell asleep. Judging by the tear stains on his pillow the next morning, he had cried a lot. Tyrathan washed his face before checking out of the inn. He was not a hundred percent sure where he was going to go now, or what he was going to do, but he did know one thing. He was going to make good on his promise. He was going to avenge Vol’jin’s death.


	15. Day 15: Scars

Tyrathan Khort had learned a long time ago that his wife did not like to see his scars. She saw them as disfigurements and signs of violence. She hated them. So, Tyrathan had always been careful to keep his scars hidden. He only had a few, and they did not stand out, so it was not hard. That was until he came back from Pandaria.

The wound from the mogu’s spear had healed, but left a nasty scar on Tyrathan’s abdomen. He had a matching scar on his back too. He should have died from that injury, but he had not. Vol’jin had refused to let him die.

His heart twisted whenever he thought about Vol’jin, but Tyrathan needed to try to make things work out with his wife. It was mostly his fault that things had deteriorated as much as they had. He had taken his wife for granted and been an inattentive husband. He also wanted to be a better father to his children.

Tyrathan tried to hide his newest scar from his wife. He was not sure what her reaction would be if she ever saw it, so he kept it covered. That tactic worked for awhile, until one day when she walked in while he was changing his shirt.

Tyrathan turned around when he heard her gasp. She was standing in the doorway with a basket of clean laundry. Her eyes were wide and focused on the scar on his abdomen. She must have seen the one on his back as well. The look on her face was one of shock and disgust.

Tyrathan quickly pulled his shirt on to cover the scar. “Elanora,” he began.

“What was that?” Elanora asked.

“It’s just a scar from an injury I got in Pandaria,” explained Tyrathan.

Elanora just shook her head and left the room. From then on, every time she looked at him, Tyrathan could tell that she was seeing that scar in her mind, and it repulsed her. That knowledge left an invisible scar on his heart.  
———————————————————————————————————————————  
One thing that Tyrathan noticed when he first started living with Vol’jin was that the troll did not bother to hide his scars. He did not even seem to think about them. Sometimes, Tyrathan would just let his eyes study those scars on Vol’jin, memorizing the location of every single one.

Part of Tyrathan wanted to know the story behind every single one of those scars. Some he already knew, like the scars on Vol’jin’s throat and ear. At the same time, part of Tyrathan was reluctant to ask Vol’jin. He did not want to offend Vol’jin, or make him feel self conscious.

Tonight, though, Tyrathan did more than just look at Vol’jin’s scars. They had gone to bed and Tyrathan was resting his head on Vol’jin’s chest. Absentmindedly, he began to trace some of Vol’jin’s scars with his finger.

Some were old and faded, other were newer and the texture of skin was different over them. Vol’jin’s scars did not bother Tyrathan. Maybe his ex-wife was right and there was something wrong with him.

Suddenly, Tyrathan became aware that Vol’jin’s sharp eyes were watching him. “I’m sorry,” said Tyrathan as he withdrew his hand.

“Why?” Vol’jin asked.

Tyrathan glanced up and saw the confusion on Vol’jin’s face. “I figured that you probably didn’t want me touching your scars. Some people don’t like to be reminded that they have them.”

“Why?” Vol’jin asked again.

“Some people think scars are ugly,” whispered Tyrathan.

“Do ya?” Vol’jin asked.

“No,” said Tyrathan as he shook his head. “Your scars aren’t ugly.”

“What about ya scars?” Vol’jin persisted. That was one thing about Vol’jin that Tyrathan both loved and hated at the same time. Vol’jin could always tell when something was bothering Tyrathan, and he never let it go until he gotten to the bottom of it.

“I’ve been told that they’re not my best feature,” muttered Tyrathan as he looked away.

The next thing he knew, Vol’jin had flipped them over so that Tyrathan was lying on his back and Vol’jin hovered over him. The troll slid Tyrathan’s shirt up and began to gently caress the scar on his abdomen.

“Whoever told ya dat be foolish,” said Vol’jin. He then lowered his head down and kissed the scar. “I think dat ya be beautiful with dem,” he said as he lifted his head back up and smiled at Tyrathan. There was softness and love in Vol’jin’s eyes.

Tyrathan blinked back tears as he felt that particular scar on his heart begin to heal.


	16. Day 16: Pinned Down

Vol’jin growled as another giant spear struck the ground near where he and Tyrathan had taken cover. The good news was that the naga had no idea which hiding spot, among the dozens of boulders scattered along the beach, they had chosen. The bad news was that the naga were slowly reducing the boulders to rubble with their siege machine.

“So what are our chances of getting out of this one alive?” Tyrathan asked with a morbid sense of humor. He had an arrow nocked in his bow, but was not attempting to shoot at the naga. Both of them knew that the moment Tyrathan moved out from behind the boulder to fire, he would be hit by the naga’s spears. It was the same thing that would happen if Vol’jin stepped out to attack the naga with a spell.

The two of them had slipped away from Orgrimmar to go fishing for the day. Unfortunately, they had come across a small squad of naga and were attacked. Once they had taken cover behind the boulders, the two of them realized that they were trapped. Further retreat was impossible without exposure, and that would leave them dead in a matter of seconds.

Vol’jin blamed himself for this. He had been receiving reports of increased naga activity, but none of the sightings had been anywhere near Orgrimmar. Given the size of this squad, they were most likely setting up for a larger army.

Another spear struck a nearby boulder. The rock started to crack. It was only a matter of time before the naga began to chip away at their hiding place.

“Vol’jin?” Tyrathan asked.

“I be sorry, Tyrathan,” sighed Vol’jin.

“For what?” Tyrathan asked with a confused expression on his face.

“Dis be my fault. Comin’ out here be my stupid idea,” explained Vol’jin.

“Hey, don’t say that,” said Tyrathan as he placed a hand on Vol’jin’s shoulder. “You wanted to take me fishing, and it looks like we found some big ones.”

Vol’jin chuckled at his mate’s joke. “Any idea on how to catch dem?” he grinned.

“Unfortunately, no,” admitted Tyrathan. “But either way, it’s going to make a good story when we get back to Orgrimmar.”

Vol’jin smiled at Tyrathan as he pulled his mate into a hug. He rubbed his tusks against Tyrathan’s face and pressed a kiss to his lips. He was not sure if they were going to make it back to Orgrimmar, but he did know one thing. Either they were going to make it back to Orgrimmar together, or they were going to die together trying.

The next moment, a giant ballista spear pulverized the boulders that were protecting the two of them. The spear impaled both of them before hitting the ground.

“Not again,” gasped Tyrathan as the light quickly faded from his eyes. His body went limp before Vol’jin’s eyes.

Vol’jin’s natural healing abilities were struggling to keep him alive. Vol’jin forced his body to stop healing itself. His mate was gone and he had no desire to remain in this world without Tyrathan.

“I be right dere in a moment,” Vol’jin whispered to Tyrathan as he closed his eyes and squeezed his dead mate’s hand.


	17. Day 17: “Stay with me”

“I can’t, Vol’jin,” said Tyrathan Khort. “You know I can’t.” The hunter was packing his traveling pack. The two of them had spent the night together at Chen’s house in Zouchin, one of the few places where they could meet away from prying eyes.

Vol’jin frowned, not even bothering to hide his disappointment. This was not the first time they had this conversation. “I don’t understand, manthing. I know dat ya not be happy,” argued Vol’jin.

Vol’jin knew that for a fact. Tyrathan had tried to make things work out with his wife, but their marriage ended in divorce. His ex-wife then married Morelan Vanyst. The Vanyst family then refused to let Tyrathan see his children, and stripped the hunter of his parental rights. That was the hardest blow for Tyrathan.

Yet, Vol’jin’s biggest concern was the constant suicidal missions that the Vanysts were sending Tyrathan on. So far the hunter’s luck had held out, and he returned safely from each one. However, Vol’jin feared that there would come a day when Tyrathan was not so lucky.

Vol’jin held Tyrathan’s hands and gently squeezed them. “Please, Tyrathan, stay with me. I be worried about ya,” pleaded Vol’jin.

“What are you worried about?” Tyrathan asked.

“I worry dat each time is gonna be da last time dat I will see ya. I worry about ya not bein’ happy,” argued Vol’jin.

“My happiness is not your responsibility,” said Tyrathan.

“But I want ya to be happy,” insisted Vol’jin. “And I want to be da one to make ya happy.”

“You do make me happy, and I’m happy with how things are right now. I just... I just can’t do what you’re asking me to do,” said Tyrathan. “Not right now.”

“I not be enough for ya? Or do ya loyalty to da Alliance be more important dan me, because dat be all ya got left?” Vol’jin growled.

“Vol’jin,” sighed Tyrathan.

“No! Ya said ya couldn’t stay with me because ya wanted to repair ya marriage. Well, ya ain’t got ya marriage no more! Den ya said dat ya couldn’t stay with me because of ya children. Ya don’t have dem anymore, either! Ya be nothin’ but a tool for dat noble ya serve, and ya can’t be so blind as to not see dat he be tryin’ to kill ya with dese suicide missions,” ranted Vol’jin.

“Enough!” Tyrathan yelled as he pulled his hands out of Vol’jin’s.

Vol’jin grew silent, but he still fumed.

“None of that is any of your business,” spat Tyrathan. “And how do you know what missions Vanyst sends me on anyway? Have you been spying on me?”

“I just be havin’ someone check on ya every once in awhile,” explained Vol’jin.

“That’s spying!” Tyrathan yelled. “You know what, you’re right, this will be the last time you see me, because I’m not coming back!” Tyrathan grabbed his bag and headed for the door.

“Tyrathan, please,” began Vol’jin.

“No, I don’t want to hear it,” hissed Tyrathan as he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Vol’jin rested his forehead against the door. “Tyrathan, please stay with me,” he whispered as tears pricked his eyes.


	18. Day 18: Muffled Scream

“So, when be Vol’jin supposed to arrive?” demanded the Zandalari troll.

Tyrathan Khort had just arrived at the place where he was supposed to meet Vol’jin. It was an abandoned cabin at the edge of Dustwallow Marsh. No one knew about it, so it was the perfect place for secret meetings. Tyrathan and Vol’jin used this place often, and not once had they come across anyone. That was until today.

The moment Tyrathan arrived, he was ambushed by a dozen Zandalari trolls. Caught by surprise, he could not fight off that many at once, and they quickly overpowered him. They tied him up and dragged him inside the cabin. Tyrathan now sat on the edge of the bed while the Zandalari leader questioned him.

“I be askin’ ya a question,” growled the large troll as he slapped Tyrathan’s face.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” coughed Tyrathan. He could taste blood in his mouth.

The Zandalari jerked Tyrathan’s chin up so that he was looking the Zandalari in the eye. “I know dat ya be Vol’jin’s pet. I know dat he comes here for...recreational activities,” smirked the Zandalari. “Things be much easier on ya if ya cooperate. I be knowin’ a lot of people back in Zandalar who would be interested in a human pet. Dey would treat ya a lot better dan dis Darkspear. Dey wouldn’t keep ya secret like da Warchief does. It be like he be ashamed of ya.”

Tyrathan responded by spitting in the Zandalari’s face. He took some satisfaction in seeing blood mixed in with his spit slide down the Zandalari’s nose.

Growling, the Zandalari seized Tyrathan by the collar and jerked him to his feet. “Ya need to be taught better manners. Maybe I just keep ya for myself. Ya be feisty. It gonna be fun breakin’ ya spirit,” he threatened.

At that moment, one of the Zandalari rogues slipped into the room. “Vol’jin be right outside,” he whispered.

“Good, tell da others to be ready. Dey know what to do,” ordered the Zandalari leader.

Tyrathan knew that Vol’jin was going to walk into the ambush, just like he had. Tyrathan needed to warn him. “Vol’jin!” Tyrathan tried to shout, but the moment he opened his mouth, the Zandalari leader shoved a filthy rag into his mouth.

“Now, now, none of dat,” said the Zandalari leader as he dragged Tyrathan to the closet. “Ya just be a good little human and wait while we take care of business.”

Tyrathan struggled and tried to scream again, but the rag muffled the noise.

The Zandalari opened the closet door. “Once we be done, I gonna come back and take ya to ya new home. Ya be forgettin’ all about dat Darkspear once ya get a taste of a real troll,” he smirked as he shoved Tyrathan inside the small closet.

The back of Tyrathan’s head struck the wall so hard that he saw stars. He collapsed to the floor as the Zandalari closed the door. Tyrathan’s ears were ringing as he realized that he was passing out. His last conscious thought was who would he see when he woke up? Vol’jin or the Zandalari?  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
When Tyrathan came to, the first thing he was aware of was the pounding in his head. He wondered why his head hurt so bad, but then the memories of what had transpired came flooding back. Tyrathan opened his eyes. His vision was blurry at first, but then it focused.

“Wake up, little human,” smirked the Zandalari as he leaned over Tyrathan.


	19. Day 19: Asphyxiation

Tyrathan woke up feeling like he could not breath. It felt like a heavy weight was pressing on his chest. He could only get a little air into his lungs. He opened his eyes and all he could see was blue. He could hear something roaring over his head. It took him a moment to realize that it was Vol’jin snoring. Vol’jin must have rolled over on top of him in his sleep.

Tyrathan tried to move his arms and legs, but they were also pinned under Vol’jin’s weight. A sense of dread began to build up in Tyrathan as he realized that he could not move. He opened his mouth, trying to yell to get Vol’jin’s attention, but it came out as a whisper.

Vol’jin continued to snore and then shifted again in his sleep. This time, Tyrathan could not breathe at all. After a couple of minutes, he began to feel lightheaded and dizzy. Then his ears started to ring and his vision grew black. He realized that he was passing out. He also realized that he could die if he did not get a breath soon.

Tyrathan tried to yell again, but nothing came out. The world went black.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
Tyrathan could hear laughter. He opened his eyes to see a troll-like creature standing over him. A creature that he had seen only once before, when he had almost died back in Pandaria.

“Bwonsamdi,” gasped Tyrathan as he scrambled to his feet and backed away from the Loa. He looked around. He was not in his room in Grommash Hold. This room was dark and made entirely of stone. Tyrathan realized that Vol’jin was nowhere in sight.

“Now dat was an entertainin’ way to die,” laughed Bwonsamdi.

Tyrathan glared at the Loa. But fear began to set in as Bwonsamdi’s words registered with Tyrathan. “Am I dead?” he asked.

“Aye,” grinned Bwonsamdi. “Ya suffocated underneath ya own mate.” The Loa broke into another fit of laughter.

Tyrathan frowned. He worried about Vol’jin and how he was going to react when he woke up. He knew Vol’jin would blame himself, but it had been an accident. “Where am I?” Tyrathan asked.

“Ya be in my realm. Make yaself at home. After all, dis gonna be ya new home,” smiled Bwonsamdi. “If ya excuse me, I gonna go visit a certain troll. Da next act of da show gonna happen when he wakes up and see what he done.” Bwonsamdi disappeared, but his laughter continued to echo throughout his realm.


	20. Day 20: Trembling

The past few days had been quiet. There had not been any world ending emergencies lately, and Vol’jin was enjoying it, for the most part. Apparently, since it was peaceful at the moment, Saurfang had decided that now was a good time to review tax laws, which meant a mountain of paperwork on Vol’jin’s desk, literally, a mountain. Vol’jin could not see over the stack of papers when he was sitting at his desk.

Vol’jin sighed. He much rather be doing something else, sparring with one of his shadowhunters, hunting with Tyrathan, riding Zarin across the desert, playing with Jihui, really anything else at this point. Yet, Vol’jin supposed that this work was important and it needed to be done, and it was his responsibility.

“Now,” said Saurfang as he read from a paper. “If a farmer loses his crop to a rampaging wild kodo, he can claim that as loss of income.”

Loa have mercy. Vol’jin needed a break from this. They had been at this since six this morning. He needed something to happen. Anything.

At that moment, a loud thump came from the hallway. It sounded like someone had fallen. The worried voices of the guards could be heard.

Vol’jin and Saurfang dropped the papers that they were working on and rushed out into the hall.

Sitting on the floor, backed up against the wall, was Tyrathan. He had his knees pulled up to his chest. His breathing was rapid. His eyes were unfocused. Sweat was forming on his forehead, and his whole body was starting to tremble.

Vol’jin had seen this all before. Tyrathan was having a flashback. Vol’jin wondered what had triggered it this time.

“Leave,” ordered Vol’jin to the two troll guards and Saurfang.

The three of them quickly left. Vol’jin knew that they would keep anyone else from coming this way. Right now, the fewer people around, the better it would be for Tyrathan.

Jihui whimpered from where he sat next to Tyrathan, but the hunter did not even seem to notice his pet raptor. At this point, Vol’jin doubted that his human was aware of anything that going on in the real world.

“Tyrathan,” said Vol’jin as he carefully approached his mate. He had learned to be cautious around Tyrathan when he was like this. The human could be unpredictable during these times.

During one particularly bad flashback, Vol’jin had learned that lesson. He had tried to calm Tyrathan down, but the hunter pulled out his dagger and tried to stab Vol’jin. He had not been aware of what he was doing at the time. Luckily, Vol’jin had managed to wrestle the weapon away before Tyrathan could hurt himself or anyone else. When the flashback had ended, Tyrathan had spent the next two days racked with guilt for attacking Vol’jin.

“Tyrathan,” said Vol’jin again as he knelt near his mate. “Can ya hear me?”

“Dead. They’re all dead,” whispered Tyrathan as his eyes darted back and forth. The trembling was so bad now that his entire body was shaking.

Vol’jin frowned. He did not know what memory was haunting Tyrathan this time, but it sounded like a bad one.

“Love. Listen to me. Ya be safe,” said Vol’jin.

“They’re looking for me. They’re going to kill me too,” said Tyrathan as his hand went to his belt.

Vol’jin knew that was where Tyrathan kept his dagger hidden. Vol’jin grabbed Tyrathan’s wrist to keep him from drawing that weapon. Unfortunately, that had the effect that Vol’jin feared that it would.

Tyrathan spun around and tried to punch Vol’jin with his free hand. The human had a wild look in his eyes.

Vol’jin grabbed Tyrathan’s other wrist and pulled Tyrathan against him, pinning his arms to his sides, so Tyrathan’s back was against Vol’jin’s chest. This way Tyrathan would not be able to kick Vol’jin. During times like this, Tyrathan could be vicious, especially if he was convinced that his life was in danger.

“No! Let go of me!” Tyrathan yelled as he struggled in Vol’jin’s grip.

“Tyrathan, please calm down,” pleaded Vol’jin. “I not gonna hurt ya, or let anyone else hurt ya.”

It was easy for Vol’jin to overpower Tyrathan, but he hated having to do it. Even during times like this when it became necessary, it made Vol’jin feel guilty, having to do this to his mate.

“I’ll kill you!” Tyrathan screamed.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Vol’jin chuckled, “I not doubtin’ dat ya could, manthing.”

Tyrathan stopped struggling. “Vol’jin?” he asked as he started trembling again.

Good. Maybe Tyrathan was starting to come out of it. “It be me, Love,” said Vol’jin.

“Make them go away, please,” whimpered Tyrathan as he leaned back against Vol’jin.

There was no one else around, so Vol’jin knew that Tyrathan was still seeing that flashback.

“Dere be no one here but ya and me. Dey not be real. Dey canna hurt ya,” explained Vol’jin.

Tyrathan closed his eyes and started crying.

“Hush, it be okay. I be here,” whispered Vol’jin as he wrapped his arms around Tyrathan in a proper hug. The human was still trembling.

“I’m so sorry,” cried Tyrathan.

“Ya have nothin’ to be sorry about,” said Vol’jin as he pressed a kiss to Tyrathan’s forehead.

Eventually, the trembling and crying stopped. After that, Vol’jin picked Tyrathan up and put him to bed. The human needed rest and quiet after one of these episodes. The paperwork could wait. Vol’jin spent the rest of the day by his mate’s side.


	21. Day 21: Laced Drink

“I still don’t understand you, Khort,” said Jasper as he sat down next to Tyrathan and handed him his beer. “Why don’t you want to go on this hunting trip?”

Tyrathan took a sip of his drink while he tried to think of an excuse to give Jasper. They were in the local tavern of their town. Jasper was trying to convince Tyrathan to go on this hunting trip to Stranglethorn that the Vanyst were sponsoring.

“The Vanyst are paying for travel, food, and lodging,” argued Jasper. “Plus twenty gold for every troll that you kill.”

And that was why Tyrathan did not want to go. Since returning from Pandaria, Tyrathan just did not have the urge to troll hunt like he did before. He knew his friends thought it strange given how proficient he was at it, and how profitable it could be,

“You’ve got four kids. I know you could use the money,” continued Jasper.

“It’s not about the money,” argued Tyrathan.

“Well, then think about the message we will be sending. This is payback for what those savages did to Morelan and our friends,” spat Jasper. “It will show them that they can’t mess with us.”

Since Morelan had returned from Pandaria, he harbored a hate for trolls. Tyrathan supposed he could not blame Morelan, given how the Zandalari had tortured him. Yet, Morelan saw no difference between the Zandalari and any other troll. The trolls in Stranglethorn had nothing to do with what happened to Morelan, but they were going to be the ones to suffer for it. Tyrathan was not comfortable with that. It was not right.

“I just don’t feel like traveling so far from home right now,” said Tyrathan. “Especially since I’m trying to fix things with Elanora.”

“I didn’t know the two of you were having problems,” said Jasper.

Tyrathan frowned. Why had he brought that up? He took another drink of his beer. Strangely, he was feeling very relaxed and felt like opening up.

“She cheated on me with Morelan,” explained Tyrathan. Was his voice slurring? He had only one beer. Alcohol usually did not affect him this quickly.

“Really? She cheated on you? With him? Is that why you don’t want to hunt trolls? You think Morelan got what he deserved at their hands?” Jasper asked. “I’m not judging. I mean, I’m impressed you haven’t beaten the guy up for sleeping with your wife.”

Tyrathan shook his head. “I don’t want to hunt trolls anymore because I fell in love with one,” admitted Tyrathan. Why was he telling Jasper this? Tyrathan wanted to shut his mouth, but it seemed like it had a mind of its own.

Shock showed on Jasper’s face. “Really? Who?” he whispered.

“Vol’jin,” whispered Tyrathan. Even in his altered state of mind, saying Vol’jin’s name hurt. Tyrathan missed him. Maybe he should take Vol’jin up on his offer and go live with him. He was certain that Elanora was still sleeping with Morelan anyway. The two of them would probably be glad to have him out of the picture.

“Morelan was right,” muttered Jasper.

“What?” Tyrathan asked.

“Tyrathan Khort,” said a man who suddenly stepped out of the shadows. “You are under arrest for treason.”

Several other men also appeared out of thin air it seemed. Rogues.

Tyrathan stood up, but his balance felt off. The men grabbed him and he soon found himself in handcuffs. How could a single drink to this to him?

“Good job, Jasper,” said Bolten Vanyst as he walked into the tavern. He handed Jasper several gold pieces.

Tyrathan felt confused. None of what was happening was making much sense.

“Are you wondering what’s going on?” Bolten asked. “You’re friend here spiked your drink so you would tell us your secrets.”

“Jasper,” whispered Tyrathan as he was dragged out of the tavern.

Jasper refused to look at him.

The part of Tyrathan’s brain that was still working wondered what was going to happen to him now. He suspected he would be taken to Stormwind, imprisoned, and interrogated. What would happen after that though, he was not sure.


	22. Day 22: Hallucination

Many herbs were useful in spells and voodoo. Burning certain herbs could alter one’s level of consciousness and make meditation or communing with the Loa easier.

That being the case, Vol’jin did not give it a second thought when he blended several of the strongest herbs into an incense and burned it. He closed his eyes to meditate, just as he heard the door to his suite of rooms open and close. He knew that was Tyrathan. Tyrathan would not bother Vol’jin while he was meditating and Vol’jin was grateful for that.

Vol’jin was reaching out to the spirit world when he was brought back to reality by a loud sound.

Thump!

“Tyrathan, fall down,” laughed Tyrathan.

Vol’jin’s snapped open. Tyrathan was lying on the floor, laughing like falling was the funniest thing in world.

“Tyrathan, ya okay?” Vol’jin asked as he got up and walked over to Tyrathan.

“Tyrathan fall down and go boom,” Tyrathan laughed.

“Are ya drunk?” Vol’jin asked as he knelt down next to Tyrathan. He could not smell any alcohol on Tyrathan’s breath.

“Your tusks are pointy,” smiled Tyrathan as he reached up and stroked one of Vol’jin’s tusks.

Vol’jin frowned. Why was Tyrathan acting this way? Vol’jin noted that Tyrathan’s pupils were dilated. The human had a lazy smile on his face. He seemed to be extremely relaxed. It reminded Vol’jin of the time when he and Zalazane had gotten into Master Gadrin’s herb chest, pretending to be witch doctors. They had been seven at the time, mixed a bunch of different herbs together, and gotten themselves high. Suddenly, it clicked for Vol’jin.

“Da herbs,” Vol’jin muttered.

To an adult troll, even the strongest of these herbs did nothing more than relax them. Unfortunately, to a human... Loa, have mercy.

Vol’jin let out a Zandali curse.

“Ohh, you said a bad word,” accused Tyrathan.

“I know. I be sorry,” said Vol’jin. Sorry for more than one thing. He had just accidentally got his mate high. He hoped Tyrathan would forgive him. He stood up, quickly walked over to the burning incense, and extinguished it.

“Bad floor, bad floor,” said Tyrathan as he repeatedly hit his hand against the floor.

“Stop dat,” ordered Vol’jin as he walked back over to Tyrathan and grabbed his hand. “Ya gonna to hurt yaself.”

“The floor hit me,” pouted Tyrathan.

“I know,” said Vol’jin. He picked his mate up and carried him to the bedroom. His mate needed to sleep this off.

“You smell good,” said Tyrathan as he nuzzled his face into the crock of Vol’jin’s neck. He began to kiss Vol’jin there.

Vol’jin bit back a growl. Normally, he would give into his mate’s affections, but right now, Tyrathan was not capable of rational thought, or consent. He gently laid his mate on the bed, but Tyrathan refused to let go, keeping his arms around Vol’jin.

“Come on, Vol’jin. I know you want to,” Tyrathan pleaded.

“Ya not be thinkin’ straight. I not gonna take advantage of ya,” said Vol’jin as he pried Tyrathan’s arms off.

“Vol’jin,” whined Tyrathan.

“I promise dat when ya feel bettah, dat I will rock ya world. Okay?” Vol’jin sighed. That is if Tyrathan did not hate him.

“Okay,” Tyrathan smiled as he closed his eyes.

Vol’jin stroked Tyrathan’s hair. Hopefully, Tyrathan would fall asleep soon and wake up when this had worn off. In the meantime, Vol’jin needed to get rid of the lingering fumes from the incense.

“I’m hungry,” complained Tyrathan as he sat up.

“What do ya want to eat?” Vol’jin asked as he opened a window. He hoped some fresh air would help clear Tyrathan’s head. Oh, Tyrathan was going to be so upset when he sobered up.

“A cheeseburger with bacon, fried egg, and sausage,” said Tyrathan.

“How about somethin’ dat not gonna give ya a heart attack while ya eat it?” Vol’jin offered.

“And ice cream with pickles, ketchup, and relish,” added Tyrathan.

That sounded disgusting. Vol’jin shook his head. “I’ll get ya somethin’ to eat. Ya just lay back down,” urged Vol’jin.

Tyrathan lay down and closed his eyes again.

Vol’jin left the bedroom. He asked the guards to have supper brought up early.

“Vol’jin!” screamed Tyrathan from the bedroom.

Heart pounding, Vol’jin rushed back to the bedroom. “What’s wrong?!” he asked. Tyrathan was no where in sight.

“Tyrathan!” Vol’jin called.

“Under here.” Tyrathan’s voice came from underneath the bed.

Vol’jin knelt down and looked under the bed. “Why ya be under dere?”

“Hiding. The skulls in the voodoo fetishes grew skeletons and danced around the room,” whispered Tyrathan.

Vol’jin sighed. His mate was hallucinating. This was worse than Vol’jin thought. “Come on out,” coaxed Vol’jin. “I’ll protect ya from dem.”

Tyrathan crawled out from under the bed. He threw himself into Vol’jin’s arms. He began to sob against Vol’jin’s chest.

“Shhh, it be okay,” said Vol’jin as he wrapped his arms around Tyrathan and held him. Vol’jin needed help with Tyrathan. He was unsure of how much worse this was going to get, or if Tyrathan was even going to be okay at this point. Vol’jin patted Tyrathan on the back while he tried to figure out what to do.

Vol’jin did not have to wait long because one of the guards returned with their supper. When the guard stopped in the doorway of the bedroom, Vol’jin ordered him to fetch Go’el, who was spending a few days in Orgrimmar. With a worried glance at the sobbing human in Vol’jin’s arms, the guard quickly took off.

“Hey, supper be here. Ya said dat ya were hungry,” Vol’jin offered.

“Did they bring my ice cream with pickles?” Tyrathan sniffed as he wiped his eyes.

“Let’s go see,” said Vol’jin.

Thankfully, there was no ice cream with pickles. Tyrathan seemed a little disappointed about that, but he soon scarfed down his entire supper like he had not eaten anything in a week. Then he began to eye Vol’jin’s supper.

Vol’jin slid his plate in front of the suddenly ravenous human. Vol’jin could always eat later. When Go’el arrived, Vol’jin quietly explained the situation to him, out of Tyrathan’s ear shot.

“You drugged him?” frowned Go’el.

“It be an accident. I didn’t know dat just smellin’ da herbs would have dis effect on him,” argued Vol’jin.

“Vol’jin,” chided Go’el.

Tyrathan had stopped eating and was staring at Go’el in a daze, as if he had never seen the orc before.

“I’ll see what I can do. He probably just needs to sleep it off,” said Go’el as he approached Tyrathan.

“I canna get him to go to sleep,” explained Vol’jin.

As soon as Go’el got within a few feet of Tyrathan, the human jumped out of his chair and backed away from Go’el. “Stay away from me,” said Tyrathan.

Go’el stopped and glanced over at Vol’jin.

“Tyrathan, Go’el just be here to make sure ya be okay,” coaxed Vol’jin as he stepped towards his mate.

“You stay away too,” ordered Tyrathan. “I don’t know how you got in here, but you Horde are trespassing on Vanyst property.”

“What?” Go’el asked with a confused expression.

Vol’jin sighed as he ran a hand through his mohawk. Apparently, Tyrathan was no longer in touch with reality. “Tyrathan, please listen to me,” pleaded Vol’jin.

“How do you know my name?!” Tyrathan demanded as he narrowed his eyes at them. He backed away some more.

“Tyrathan, ya be my mate, and ya be in Orgrimmar. Ya not be in ya right mind right now, and we just want to help ya,” explained Vol’jin.

Tyrathan stared at them with a blank stare.

Vol’jin took a couple of more steps towards Tyrathan.

Tyrathan turned and quickly bolted into the bedroom. He slammed the door shut.

“Tyrathan!” Vol’jin called as tried to open the door. It was locked.

“Maybe it would be best if we left him alone for a little while,” offered Go’el. “It’s not like he can go anywhere from there.”

“Except out da window,” said Vol’jin. “A hallucinatin’ human loose in Orgrimmar? Dat not be good, especially given how dangerous he can be.”

“Good point,” said Go’el.

Luckily, Vol’jin had a master key and unlocked the door. As soon as he opened the door, an arrow came flying at his head. Oh no, Tyrathan had found his weapons. Both Vol’jin and Go’el dodged the arrow.

“Vol’jin, as much as I hate it, we’re just going to have to knock him out with a spell,” sighed Go’el. “Otherwise, someone might get hurt.”

“I draw his fire,” said Vol’jin as he pushed the door open again.

Several arrows came flying out of the room in rapid succession, all towards Vol’jin. That gave Go’el the opportunity to hit the hunter with a sleeping spell. Tyrathan collapsed on the floor.

“Are you okay?” Go’el asked as he turned towards Vol’jin.

Two of the arrows had succeeded in striking Vol’jin, one in his right shoulder, and one in his left knee. Vol’jin pulled the arrows out and the wounds closed instantly.

“I be fine,” said Vol’jin as he stood up. “I be lucky dat his aim be off.” He walked over to Tyrathan and picked his human up. He then tucked him into bed.

“He should be fine when he wakes up,” said Go’el.

Vol’jin nodded. “Yeah, but he gonna be mad when he figures out dat I did dis to him.”


	23. Day 23: Bleeding Out

Vol’jin pressed his hands against the wound on Tyrathan’s abdomen. Tyrathan had pushed Vol’jin out of the way, and gotten impaled on the mogu’s spear meant for Vol’jin. Tyrathan had saved Vol’jin’s life, and Vol’jin intended to return the favor. He was not going to let Tyrathan die.

Vol’jin tried to summon his magic and form the healing spell that would close the wound, but nothing happened. Vol’jin tried again, but it was like his magic was not even there. Desperate, Vol’jin closed his eyes and tried to reach out to Bwonsamdi, but all he heard was the Loa of Death laughing.

Vol’jin opened his eyes as a feeling of helplessness descended on him. Blood was seeping out of Tyrathan’s wound through Vol’jin’s fingers. Vol’jin tried to apply more pressure, but it was doing no good. Tyrathan was still bleeding.

“Tyrathan, open ya eyes. Please, hold on,” pleaded Vol’jin, but it was a futile plea as Tyrathan stopped breathing.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
Vol’jin’s eyes snapped opened and he sat up. He glanced around. He was in his bed, in his room, at his home in the Echo Isles. Heart racing, Vol’jin looked at his hands. There was no blood on them. Vol’jin then glanced at the person lying beside him.

Beside Vol’jin, Tyrathan was in the bed asleep. At least, Vol’jin hoped the human was asleep. He leaned closer to Tyrathan. The human’s bare chest rose and fell in steady even breaths.

Vol’jin pulled the blanket down. He could see the scar on Tyrathan’s abdomen. The scar left from the mogu’s spear. The scar left after Vol’jin had healed the wound. Vol’jin reached over and gently ran a finger over the scar. His magic had not failed. Tyrathan had not bleed out. It had just been a nightmare.


	24. Day 24: Secret Injury

Day 24: Secret Injury

Vol’jin slowly walked back to his tent. He was doing his best to walk normally, so no one would suspect that anything was wrong. It would not be good for morale if the soldiers knew that their Warchief had been injured in battle today. It had been a lucky shot from an Alliance sharpshooter.

The bullet was still lodged in Vol’jin’s arm. He would need to remove it before his body would begin to heal itself. He had tied a red Horde bandanna over the wound to hide it. No one had suspected a thing. Vol’jin nodded at the guards posted outside his tent, and stepped inside.

“Vol’jin,” smiled Tyrathan as he looked up from where he sat on the cot. Relief showed on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Aye. Ya not been worryin’ about me, have ya?” Vol’jin teased.

“Of course I have,” said Tyrathan as he stood up and walked over to Vol’jin. “I’m going to worry about you no matter what.”

“I be fine. Ya be worrin’ for no reason,” reassured Vol’jin.

“I wouldn’t be worrying so much if I was there to keep an eye on you,” complained Tyrathan.

“Tyrathan,” sighed Vol’jin.

“I know, I know,” said Tyrathan.

In a battle between the Horde and the Alliance, the last thing Vol’jin needed was Tyrathan on the battlefield. The human was too tempting a target for the Alliance. Plus, Vol’jin never liked to tempt fate if it could be helped. Tyrathan was stubborn, however. The best compromise they could reach was that Tyrathan remained here in the Horde camp during the battle.

Vol’jin did not want Tyrathan to worry about him, so Vol’jin did not tell Tyrathan about his injury. Unfortunately, that meant that Vol’jin would have to wait before he could remove the bullet. His arm burned with pain, but Vol’jin did his best to block it out. All during supper, Vol’jin found it difficult to focus on his conversation with Tyrathan.

After supper, Vol’jin complained of being tired, so they went to bed early. Vol’jin pretended to fall asleep, but instead was waiting for Tyrathan to go to sleep. By now, his arm felt like it was on fire. Eventually, Tyrathan fell asleep and Vol’jin slid out of bed.

Vol’jin took the bandanna off the wound. It was soaked in blood. Vol’jin picked up his knife and proceeded to dig the bullet out of his arm. Finally, he got the bullet out and his wound began to heal. Now, everything would be fine, as if it had never happened.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
Tyrathan had felt Vol’jin get out of bed. He watched as Vol’jin dug a bullet out of his arm. Why hadn’t Vol’jin told him that he was injured? Why would Vol’jin lie to him? Didn’t Vol’jin trust him? How often did Vol’jin hide things from him? Tyrathan had thought that he could trust Vol’jin to always be honest with him.


	25. Day 25: Humiliation

They were not going to kill him, at least that is what they told him. Tyrathan Khort was not sure if he believed them. From his cell, he could hear the crowd outside gathering. They yelled and cried for out for his blood.

Footsteps echoed down the hall and soon Bolten Vanyst came into view with several of his men. Tyrathan knew each and every one of them. He had grown up with them, fought beside them, and had been friends with many of them. Now, they looked at him with disgust.

A couple of weeks ago, Bolten Vanyst had ordered Tyrathan’s arrest. Tyrathan had been dragged from his home and thrown into the dungeon of Vanyst’s castle. Tyrathan still did not know why he had been arrested. He had not done anything. No one told him why either.

“Are you ever going to tell me what this is about?” Tyrathan asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” spat Bolten as he snapped his fingers.

His men opened the cell door and pulled Tyrathan out. Following Bolten, they marched Tyrathan outside in front of the crowd. It looked like the whole town was here. Tyrathan soon saw his ex-wife standing next to Morelan and the rest of the Vanyst family. At least, his children were not here to see whatever was about to happen.

Tyrathan was led to the stocks and they locked him in. Bolten Vanyst raised his hands and called for silence.

“Tyrathan Khort,” said Bolten, once the crowd had quieted. “You are charged with dereliction of duty during your service in Pandaria. You abandoned your comrades in battle, leading to the deaths of our beloved brothers and sisters, sons and daughters. You failed to return to your post. You assisted the enemy during a time of war.”

The last charge sent a mummer through the crowd. Tyrathan had a feeling of where this was going. Apparently, Morelan Vanyst was smarter than everyone gave him credit for.

“It has come to our attention that during the time you were missing in action, you assisted Vol’jin, now Warchief of the Horde,” explained Bolten Vanyst.

“Traitor! Murderer! Deserter!” screamed the crowd.

A rotten tomato came flying out of the crowd and hit Tyrathan in the face, quickly followed by more rotten food. Tyrathan lowered his head and closed his eyes as he was pelted by food and cursed at.

“My daughter is dead because of you, coward!” a woman screamed from the crowd. “Larsi trusted you!”

Larsi. Tyrathan sighed as he felt that old wound open back up. He should have never come home. He should have just stayed at the Shadowpan Monastery. He should have died to that mogu’s spear. He should have died to the Sha.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the crowd was ordered to go home. Tyrathan was released from the stocks and dragged back into the dungeon. He was shoved back into his cell and the door slammed shut.

“Stormwind agents will be here to collect you in the morning. They have some questions for you,” said Bolten as he and his men left, but one of them stayed behind.

“Don’t worry,” whispered Jasper. “I have it on good authority that the Warchief will be here tonight, and you’ll be gone long before the Stormwind agents get here.”

“How do you know that?” Tyrathan asked as he wiped some of the tomato juice off his face.

“I know a few people,” explained Jasper with a smirk as he left.

Tyrathan sat down and waited. Sometime around midnight, he heard the almost silent footsteps and smelled the familiar scent. Tyrathan glanced at the cell door to see friendly amber colored eyes staring at him, and the tusked smile.


	26. Day 26: Abandoned

It had been a long day. As Warchief, Vol’jin had a lot of responsibilities. A lot of things called for his attention. It was only late at night when Vol’jin could get some time to himself. He went to his private rooms, sighing when he closed the door.

He leaned back against the door and closed his eyes. After several moments, his mind started to wander. He imagined what it might be like to come to his rooms after a hard day and his rooms not be empty. He imagined a mate greeting him and soothing away the stress, a child running up to him and giving him a hug, and maybe even a raptor chirping in excitement.

The mate that he imagined was not a troll, however, but a human, Tyrathan Khort. Vol’jin sighed as he opened his eyes and moved towards the bedroom. His mind continued race while he got ready for bed.

The last time Vol’jin saw Tyrathan was the day Vol’jin left the Shadowpan Monastery. He wondered how Tyrathan was doing? Was he happy? Did he succeed in rebuilding his relationship with his wife, or had they divorced? Did he ever think about Vol’jin?

Vol’jin had not heard a word from Tyrathan. He had sent Tyrathan messages, but the human never responded. It was as if Tyrathan had forgotten Vol’jin, abandoned him. Vol’jin, on the other hand, had a hard time forgetting Tyrathan. The human haunted his thoughts during quiet moments in the day, and his dreams at night. Yet, it was always the same every morning, Vol’jin woke up to an empty bed.


	27. Day 27: Ransom

When the letter from the Alliance arrived, Vol’jin growled. Messages from the Alliance were rarely good. They were usually a list of complaints, threats, or demands. Seeing that the letter was from King Varian Wrynn, Vol’jin opened the letter expecting just that.

Warchief Vol’jin,

It has come to my attention that one of my subjects had a questionable relationship with you back in Pandaria. I believe the name Tyrathan Khort will ring a bell. I could execute him for his treason, but I believe that going in a different direction will be more profitable. I will ransom him to you in exchange for some concessions from the Horde.

First, the Horde will leave Ashenvale completely.

Second, Lordaeron will be returned to the Alliance.

Third, all Alliance prisoners will be returned.

Fourth, requested members of the Horde will be handed over to the Alliance as hostages. See attached list.

Fifth, requested outposts, towns, and territories will be handed over to the Alliance. See attached list.

Sixth, Alliance ambassadors will permanently reside in the remaining Horde capital cities to oversee...

That was as far as Vol’jin read as he crumbled the letter up. What Varian Wrynn was asking for was unreasonable. Not because Vol’jin would not do those things to keep Tyrathan safe. He would do anything for Tyrathan; but the rest of the Horde would not agree to these conditions just for a human, especially one that they did not know. Also, there was no guarantee that Wrynn would keep his word and release Tyrathan even if Vol’jin complied.

Vol’jin stood up and began to pace the room, trying to weigh his options. He could not just leave Tyrathan in Wrynn’s clutches, that was if Tyrathan was still alive. No! Vol’jin shook his head. He would not think such things, not even entertain that possibility, until proven otherwise. Tyrathan was alive and Vol’jin just needed to figure out a way to free him.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
Figuring out where Tyrathan was being held did not take long. Stormwind had one high security prison, the Stockade. Aware that this could be a trap, Vol’jin carefully handpicked his most trusted shadowhunters and sent them. They were successful and brought Tyrathan to Vol’jin, alive.

“You do realize that King Wrynn is not going to take this well, right?” Tyrathan asked Vol’jin.

“I not be carin’ about dat right now,” answered Vol’jin as held Tyrathan close. All he cared about now was that his human was safe.


	28. Day 28: Beaten

Tyrathan Khort was late. Vol’jin tried to push the worry from his mind, but this was not like the hunter. Ever since they had returned to their respective factions, they had found opportunities to meet with each other. Tyrathan was always punctual, or early, at these rendezvous. In fact, there had been several times when Vol’jin had difficulty slipping away. Tyrathan was always there, still waiting when Vol’jin finally arrived.

Vol’jin growled as he checked the time again. Tyrathan still had not arrived. Vol’jin was going to go look for Tyrathan. Just as he reached the door of their cabin, Tyrathan stumbled in. The human looked awful. He was covered in bruises and his clothing was torn.

“Tyrathan, what happened?” Vol’jin demanded as he caught the scent of blood. He worried that Tyrathan was bleeding from somewhere and began to search the human.

“I’m fine,” said Tyrathan as he shrugged Vol’jin off. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Ya not gonna tell me who did this?” Vol’jin asked.

“It’s my problem, Vol’jin,” answered Tyrathan as he removed some of his armor and outer garments. He began to check his injuries. He was bleeding from several cuts and scrapes.

Vol’jin fetched a basin of water and a cloth. He began to help Tyrathan clean up. “I want to know what happened to ya,” insisted Vol’jin.

“I just got in a fight, that’s all,” said Tyrathan as he tossed his jacket onto the bed. The jacket slid off the bed and onto the floor.

Vol’jin picked Tyrathan’s jacket and a note fell out of his pocket. “What be dis?” Vol’jin asked as he picked the note up and read it.

-The next time we catch you, traitor, we’re going to kill you-

“I don’t know where that came from,” said Tyrathan.

“I be through playin’ games, manthing,” growled Vol’jin as he held up the note. “Explain.”

“No,” said Tyrathan. “Just let it go.”

Vol’jin growled again. For once, he was unsure of what to do.


	29. Day 29: Numb

Tyrathan Khort shoved his feelings for Vol’jin to the back of his mind. He knew that their relationship was not going to continue. Vol’jin had returned to the Horde, and become the Horde’s new Warchief. Tyrathan had returned home to his family. He told himself that what had happened with Vol’jin back in Pandaria was nothing. He told himself that he felt nothing.

After trying for several months to repair his marriage, Tyrathan and his wife divorced. It was what she wanted. It was only a short time after the divorce that she married Morelan Vanyst. Tyrathan’s friends were sympathetic and tried to cheer him up. While Tyrathan appreciated their efforts, it really was not necessary. He felt nothing about his divorce.

When he learned about Vol’jin’s death, Tyrathan traveled to Durotar to see for himself. He arrived in time to see Vol’jin’s funeral. He watched as the flames consumed Vol’jin’s body. Whatever hopes he had of one day maybe reuniting with Vol’jin went up in smoke before his eyes. He thought he would feel upset or sad about this, but instead he felt nothing.


	30. Day 30: Recovery

Breaking into the Stormwind Stockade went smoother than Vol’jin expected. Other than the few guards that they had to kill, no one knew that they were here, yet. Now, they just needed to quickly find Tyrathan’s cell.

Vol’jin frowned as they searched the prison. He could not help but feel guilty. Overthrowing Garrosh, becoming Warchief, and bringing the war with the Alliance to an end had consumed all his time. Just a few days ago, it had occurred to him to send someone to check on Tyrathan.

Vol’jin missed his human and wanted to know how things were going for him. A selfish part of Vol’jin hoped that Tyrathan had not been able to work things out with his wife. If that was the case, then maybe Tyrathan would be open to restarting his relationship with Vol’jin.

Unfortunately, the scout, that Vol’jin had sent, returned with grim news. Tyrathan’s wife had left him, and taken the children with her, but Morelan had remembered Vol’jin claiming that Tyrathan was dead. Morelan and his uncle Bolten had turned Tyrathan over to Stormwind. Tyrathan had been imprisoned in the Stormwind Stockade for the past few months on charges of treason and consorting with the enemy.

Finally, Vol’jin spotted Tyrathan sitting in one of the cells, staring at the opposite wall. Vol’jin broke the lock on the cell door and entered.

“Tyrathan,” smiled Vol’jin, “I come to get ya out of here.”

Tyrathan continued to stare at the wall as if Vol’jin had not spoken.

“Tyrathan?” The smile dropped off Vol’jin’s face as he knelt down next to the hunter. He snapped his fingers in front of Tyrathan’s face a couple of times, and even shook the human gently by the shoulders. The blank stare remained on Tyrathan’s face. Vol’jin growled. What had they done to his human?

“Warchief,” said Rokhan. “We need to get movin’.”

Vol’jin nodded. He picked Tyrathan up. There was no resistance from the human, or even acknowledgment of Vol’jin’s actions. Vol’jin swallowed the lump in his throat. This was bad.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
It was worse than Vol’jin could have imagined. He stood in his office, staring out the window. His heart was breaking.

Tyrathan was injured. It was clear that the human had been tortured, but they could heal the physical injuries. Yet, it was not the physical scars that worried Vol’jin.

Tyrathan had not said a single word and the blank expression had not left his face once. He did not acknowledge anyone’s presence, not even Vol’jin’s. He offered no resistance against the healers who tended his wounds. He seemed to be oblivious to their touch.

“Vol’jin,” said Go’el as he stepped into the room.

“Dis be my fault,” said Vol’jin, without turning around.

“How is this your fault?” Go’el asked.

“I should have checked on him sooner. I shouldn’t have let him go back to da Alliance,” explained Vol’jin.

“You can beat yourself up about what you could have done, or you can focus on taking care of him now,” said Go’el. “He needs you now more than ever. From what you’ve told me, you helped heal his spirit once before.”

“His spirit not be broken back den, just wounded,” sighed Vol’jin. “Dey broke his spirit dis time.”

“Even broken spirits can heal with time,” suggested Go’el.  
——————————————————————————————————————————  
Vol’jin stepped into the Tyrathan’s room. Tyrathan was sitting on the bed, staring straight ahead. Vol’jin motioned for the troll shaman who was keeping an eye on Tyrathan to leave. The shaman left after glancing one last time at Tyrathan and shaking his head. Vol’jin recognized the look in the shaman’s eyes, pity.

“Ya got da trolls pityin’ ya,” said Vol’jin as he approached Tyrathan.

No response came from the human, but Vol’jin did not expect one.

Vol’jin sighed, “Ya had a rough time. Lay down and get some sleep,” he coaxed.

No response. No action.

Vol’jin sighed as he gently guided the human to lie down on the bed. He sat down next to Tyrathan and stroked his hair. Vol’jin was not sure what he was going to do to fix this. He did not know if this could be fixed. He had overheard one of his shadowhunters say that the human should be put out of his misery. That thought both angered and frightened Vol’jin.

Slowly, Tyrathan closed his eyes. Well, at least his human was going to sleep. Maybe... maybe tomorrow would be better.

“I knew you would come for me,” whispered Tyrathan, so softly that Vol’jin almost did not hear.

Vol’jin’s eyes widened as he leaned closer to Tyrathan.

“They told me that you wouldn’t rescue me, that you would never even know that I had been imprisoned, but I knew you wouldn’t leave me there,” whispered Tyrathan. His voice sounded so hoarse from lack of use.

Vol’jin pressed a soft kiss to Tyrathan’s forehead. “Of course I came for ya,” Vol’jin whispered back. “And I never gonna let ya be alone again. Now, sleep my little human.”

Tyrathan sighed, and Vol’jin could have sworn that he saw Tyrathan’s mouth twitch into a smile for half a second.


	31. Day 31: Embrace

Tyrathan Khort was having a hard time sleeping. He was back in the infirmary at the Shadowpan Monastery after almost dying from the mogu’s spear. The pain was not what was keeping him awake, although it did not help. It was the knowledge that Vol’jin would be leaving the Monastery in the morning. Vol’jin was returning to the Horde to try to stop Garrosh. Tyrathan honestly did not know if he would ever see Vol’jin again. That thought made his chest tighten.

One of the Panderan monks entered the infirmary to check on him. “Are you having trouble resting?” he asked with a frown on his face.

“I just can’t sleep,” admitted Tyrathan.

“Should I get one of the healers?” asked the monk.

“No,” said Tyrathan, shaking his head. He had the sudden urge to see Vol’jin. “But could you see if Vol’jin’s awake?” Tyrathan blurted out. “If he’s asleep, just let him sleep. It’s not that important anyway,” added Tyrathan quickly when he saw the monk lift an eyebrow.

The monk nodded and left. It was not long before the door to the infirmary opened again. This time it was Vol’jin.

“Tyrathan, what be wrong?” Vol’jin asked as he crossed the room and knelt next to the bed. Concern and worry showed on his face.

“I can’t sleep. Could you just hold me?” Tyrathan asked. He wanted to feel Vol’jin’s strong arms around him, just one more time.

Vol’jin stared at him for a moment. Tyrathan was worried that maybe he had gone too far. He wanted to take his words back. With both of them planning on returning to their respective factions, they had agreed to put their relationship on hold.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Tyrathan.

“Ya have nothin’ to be sorry for,” said Vol’jin as he climbed into the bed. Being carefully so as not to aggravate Tyrathan’s injuries, Vol’jin wrapped his arms around Tyrathan and shifted him so that he was lying against him.

Tyrathan rested his head on Vol’jin’s chest. He was going to miss this. He was going to miss Vol’jin. Lying here together, it felt like the rest of the world had melted away. Yet, morning would come and Vol’jin would leave.

Vol’jin began to purr, causing Tyrathan to smile. Right now, he felt so safe and loved. Lulled by the sound of Vol’jin’s purring, Tyrathan closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s finished. I hoped everyone enjoyed it, even through the tears.  
Thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments.


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